The Last-Minute Marriage Page 8

  ‘Fun?’

  ‘I suspect,’ Ruby said slowly, ‘that it’s a concept both of you have trouble with.’ She smiled some more, and there was a tinge of real regret in her eyes. ‘You know, it’s not illegal. And, as for me… You know, Marcus has just given me a cheque for an obscene amount of money to organise a wedding.’ She hesitated. And the look on her face changed. ‘You know, I had a daughter once,’ she whispered. ‘If Amy had lived she’d be just about your age. I could be buying her a wedding dress.’

  Peta stared at her. Dumbfounded. There were needs all over the place here. Not just hers. Not just her brothers. There was Marcus. And now there was Ruby. ‘So it’s not just me and Marcus who need to have fun?’ she ventured.

  ‘Is it ever just the two of you?’ Ruby’s eyes held lingering pain. ‘I’ve learned the hard way to keep to myself and no, it’s not much fun. But today… Maybe today and for the next two weeks, we could all let our barriers down.’ Her smile returned, and there was a hint of pleading behind the tired eyes. ‘If you’d like, if you’d let me, what I’d really like to do is make you the most beautiful bride the world has ever seen. Show the world what a bride should look like-see how much we can achieve in a few short hours. And then…’ A hint of mischief appeared behind her smile. ‘I’d like to write up the most beautiful gilt invitation and have it hand delivered to Charles Higgins-marked urgent.’

  Charles. At least Charles was neutral territory. ‘You don’t like Charles, either?’

  ‘I can’t stand the man.’ Ruby rose and stood, smiling down at Peta and her smile was a challenge. ‘Well. What do you think? Are you prepared to put aside a few scruples and have fun?’

  ‘You mean, do the full bridal bit?’

  ‘It would be great,’ Ruby admitted and there was a real trace of wistfulness in her voice. ‘Marcus can afford it. The man’s so wealthy this is less than pin money. And a wedding-a real wedding-in four hours. It would be fun. Wouldn’t it?’

  Peta stared up at her. More and more she didn’t understand what was happening-more and more she felt as if she was right out of control. But if she was so far out of control why not go the whole way? Why clutch at traces of dignity that were impossible to maintain?

  Why not have…fun?

  ‘A white bride,’ she whispered.

  ‘The whole works.’ Ruby was beaming. ‘I know just the place.’

  ‘It’s crazy.’

  ‘But wonderful?’

  ‘Marcus would run a mile.’

  ‘Marcus is committed. He goes through with his promises.’ Ruby’s smile deepened. ‘Let’s do the whole thing. I know where his sergeant lives-it’s half an hour from here. Can you cope with me as a matron of honour and Darrell as best man? And I’ll bet Charles will come. He’ll arrive expecting to see a farce and what he’ll see is the works.’

  ‘The works?’

  ‘Let’s do it.’ Ruby held out her hand to pull her to her feet. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I can think of a thousand reasons why not.’

  ‘Do any of them matter more than enjoying yourself?’ Ruby glanced across the street to the funeral parlour and winced. ‘Life’s for living. Come on. I dare you.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MARCUS was running late. Once he’d got back to his office there were a thousand things that needed to be sorted. To leave for Australia at this short notice seemed impossible.

  But Ruby had been there before him, making the impossible somehow inevitable. Every one of his staff seemed intent on pushing him out of the place!

  So somehow he’d done it. He’d pushed himself to the limit, but even Robert’s skilled driving hadn’t been able to get him across town right on time.

  He was ten minutes late…

  ‘I hope your bride hasn’t beaten you,’ Robert said, and when Marcus glanced at his chauffeur’s face in the rear-view mirror he found he was grinning.

  ‘Just how many people know I’m getting married this afternoon?’ he demanded, and Robert chuckled.

  ‘I’m thinking just about the whole world. The phone in the outer office has been running hot. I gather you haven’t been exactly quiet with your wedding plans.’

  No. No, he hadn’t.

  What would happen if there were photographers there? he thought suddenly. What if the press had heard about it? He hoped to heaven that Ruby had been able to persuade Peta to buy a dress.

  Something pretty.

  Peta stood in the outer office of the Justice’s offices and felt absurd. But strangely…good. Light. Free.

  Ruby had been right. It had been the best fun. They’d gone to the biggest bridal emporium in New York and when Ruby had explained that it was a rush job, that the wedding was this afternoon, that Peta was marrying Marcus Benson and that money was no object, they’d fallen over themselves to help.

  And Peta, who’d lived in a nightmare for so long, had simply acquiesced. Or more than acquiesced, she admitted. She’d tried on one exquisite creation after another. The dress they chose was, in the end, comparatively simple-deceptively so. Of magnificent ivory silk, it had tiny shoestring shoulder-straps and a scooped sweetheart neckline. It looked as if it had been made for her. It clung like a second skin to her tiny waist and then floated out in diaphanous folds, falling softly to her ankles.

  She’d stood before the mirror and Ruby had gazed at her, her eyes had misted and she’d breathed, ‘Yes!’

  The thing had been decided.

  They’d found her strappy white sandals, and an urgently called beautician had threaded white ribbons through her auburn hair and applied make-up. Just a little. ‘With that tan and that complexion you need to cover nothing. Oh, my dear, you look so beautiful.’

  And she did. The Peta who stared back at herself from the long mirror in the bridal parlour seemed unrecognisable.

  Then, at Peta’s insistence, the bridal team had turned their attention to Ruby because, ‘If I’m doing this, then so are you!’ Protesting but laughing, Ruby had allowed herself to be talked into a pale blue suit of the finest shantung. The sales-girls had found the dearest little hat and matching shoes; the beautician had decided there was time to give Ruby’s curls the most modish of cuts, and Ruby had ended up almost as dazed as Peta.

  The team in the bridal parlour had arranged a car to bring them here-a white limousine!-they’d organised white orchids, and at the last minute they’d thrust champagne glasses into their hands and they’d poured champagne for themselves as the limousine departed towards their date with Marcus.

  ‘And I bet they put that on Marcus’s bill,’ Ruby whispered. They sipped their champagne; they looked at themselves in stunned awe-and then they did what any sane, mature women would have done in the same position.

  They giggled.

  On arrival, they’d learned that Marcus wasn’t there yet but Darrell was-Marcus’s sergeant. He’d done them proud as well, dressed in full military regalia, looking so gorgeous that Peta hardly noticed the scars on his burned face.

  ‘I’m real happy for you,’ Darrell told her. ‘Marcus deserves someone to make him happy. He was so damned good to me…’

  He broke off, choked, and Peta knew how he felt.

  She was pretty choked herself.

  ‘You’re sure he’ll come?’ she whispered to Ruby and Ruby gave a smile that said she was as nervous as Peta. The giggles had disappeared.

  ‘I surely hope so. Or you’re just going to have to marry Darrell.’

  Great. Peta glanced nervously out the window at the street. There were a cluster of photographers in the doorway-obviously waiting for someone important. They’d been here when she arrived. They’d ignored Peta-there’d been three brides arrive since Peta had-but they were obviously intent on someone else.

  ‘This is crazy,’ Peta whispered. She looked down at her beautiful bouquet of white orchids and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. ‘The whole thing… It’s a crazy dream. I can’t…’

  But then she paused. A car she recognised pu
lled up out the front. Robert emerged, and then Marcus.

  Marcus, looking impossibly handsome. Marcus in a dark suit with, for heaven’s sake, a tiny white orchid twisted in his lapel.

  Her…husband?

  It was all she could do not to turn and run. Run for her life. But Ruby was taking her arm and beaming as if she’d won the lottery, and Darrell was between Peta and the door and there was nothing to do but wait. Wait until he’d run the gamut of photographers.

  Wait until he reached his bride.

  The door opened and he saw her.

  For a moment he thought he must be in the wrong place. He’d been expecting a bureaucrat’s office. An official behind the desk. Peta in some sort of more respectable outfit that Ruby had persuaded her to buy.

  Instead…

  Instead he had a bride.

  He froze. For one awful moment he was transported back to the nightmare of his childhood. To the glitz and glitter of his mother’s dreadful weddings.

  But the momentary impression was just that. Momentary. This was no nightmare. This was Peta. She’d been speaking to Ruby but she turned as he entered and she looked up at him.

  She smiled.

  Until this minute he’d thought that all white weddings were a nightmare. All his life he’d remembered the gaudy, tinselly creations his mother had worn and he’d felt ill.

  But this was different. It had to be. Peta’s dress was simple but breathtakingly beautiful.

  Peta was beautiful. Her smile widened. Her eyes locked with his.

  And in that instant something inside Marcus that he’d hardly known existed shattered and evaporated as if it had never been. The thought that nothing or no one could ever move him.

  He’d never thought any woman could be so lovely.

  Maybe she wasn’t lovely in the way that the tabloids described loveliness, he thought, dazed. Her hair was still a mop of tousled curls-no amount of brushing could hide that. Her nose was snub and she had freckles from a lifetime in the sun. But her dress… Her dress clung to her perfect figure in a soft cloud of white silk. The white ribbons through her beautiful hair were more beautiful than any veil.

  No. It wasn’t her dress. It wasn’t the bride thing. It was her eyes…her smile…the way she looked at him, half apologetic, half daring, wanting him to share this moment, wanting him to laugh, to smile, to simply share her pleasure.

  She was smiling and smiling, and it was enough to make his heart lurch. Marcus Benson’s heart. Immutable. Untouchable.

  She’d ditched her crutches and she looked…perfect.

  No. How could she be perfect? Perfection was an illusion. It was crazy. Concentrate on something other than that smile.

  Peta’s wasn’t the only smile. Ruby was there as well-a Ruby he hardly recognised, in a soft blue suit that made her look…well, softer somehow. As if that awful shell she’d built around her had somehow cracked.

  Ruby had spoken of a man and a child in her past, but Ruby had worked for him for years and had said nothing before about her private life. How on earth had the advent of Peta into their lives allowed her to lift herself out of her past?

  Because that was what had happened. Ruby was smiling from Marcus and back to Peta and the look she directed at Peta was one of pure pride.

  And then there was Darrell. How had Darrell got to know about this? Darrell was normally a dour, middle-aged man to whom life had not been kind. His wife had left him during the agonies of skin grafts; he was still deeply traumatised by the events in the Gulf and the ex-serviceman had little to smile about. But now… Now Darrell was dressed in full military regalia and he, too, was smiling, as if this was a true wedding-a true happy ever after.

  Which it wasn’t. The idea was ridiculous.

  Totally ridiculous.

  But Peta was still smiling at him and, as he walked towards her, she slipped her hand in his arm and held it as if he was already hers. It was a purely proprietorial gesture.

  It should have made him run a mile.

  But there were three people smiling at him-four, if you counted the man behind the desk. And outside was the press. The world was waiting to see if he could make this commitment.

  It wasn’t a commitment, he told himself, and there was more than a trace of desperation in his inner monologue. It was a piece of paper. Nothing more.

  He should hold himself stiffly. He shouldn’t smile. He should get this over with fast and move on.

  But not to smile would be stupid. Maybe it’d even be cruel when everyone else was waiting.

  He stared at Peta once more and it was too much. The corners of his mouth curved. His eyes lit. He smiled…

  He smiled just for her.

  He took her hand in his-firmly, with no hesitation in the world. And they turned to the man who was waiting to marry them. They made their vows.

  Man and wife.

  ‘I now pronounce you man and wife…’

  For two weeks?

  They’d forgotten Charles.

  Ruby had organised his invitation but no one had thought of him again. But as the official words faded and Marcus stared down at his bride, stunned by the enormity of what had just happened, the door burst open and in walked Peta’s cousin.

  To say he was angry would be an understatement. The man was nearly apoplectic. Charles stood in the doorway, his eyes almost starting from their sockets. His expensive three-piece suit denoted him as an executive, but the uncontrolled fury on his face was more that of a petty criminal. A thug. When Peta turned to see who it was, he lunged straight at her.

  He would have hit her. He’d hit her before. Marcus saw that at a glance. He saw Peta flinch and he saw her body brace.

  This man had lived with Peta, he thought grimly. There’d been enough violence in Marcus’s past for him to recognise the pattern.

  There’d also been enough violence in Marcus’s past for him to react, and to react fast. In one swift movement, Peta was thrust behind him, and his body was protecting her from her cousin’s angry rush.

  ‘You little…’ Charles moved sideways as if to grab her but Marcus was faster. He had him by the shoulders, holding him in a grip of steel.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘That…slut!’ Charles was beyond logic. He’d come here at a run; he was out of breath and he was out of control. He shoved against Marcus’s hold but he was going nowhere.

  Foiled, he was forced to explain. To try to voice his fury.

  ‘I got to the office after lunch to receive this.’ He hauled back from Marcus’s grasp and pulled the invitation from his top pocket. ‘This! I don’t know how she conned you-’

  ‘No one conned me.’ Marcus’s voice was flint-hard, cold as ice.

  ‘She must have. That slut, that-’

  ‘Stop. Right now. You’re talking about my wife!’

  Wife.

  The word acted like a wall of ice water. Charles flinched. And stared.

  ‘It’s not possible. Peta… Your wife? Why would you want to marry her?’

  Somehow Marcus managed to hold himself in check. Just. ‘You’re being offensive.’

  ‘It’s she who’s being offensive,’ Charles spat. ‘She’s just doing this to rob me of what rightfully belongs to me. The farm’s mine. I went to all the trouble to drag the old lady back here-’

  Enough.

  ‘Get out.’ Marcus turned to the official who was standing, mouth agape, staring in stunned amazement. ‘Do you have security guards in the building?’

  ‘I was invited,’ Charles hissed.

  ‘The invitation is rescinded.’

  ‘So’s your marriage. Marriage? This marriage is a mockery. It’s illegal. You can’t just marry her and walk away with my property. I’ll have it annulled.’

  ‘I have no intention of marrying Peta and walking away,’ Marcus said, deliberately misunderstanding him. ‘I’m taking Peta back to Australia.’ Then, as Peta pushed her way out from behind him, Marcus put his arm around her
and pulled her in to him. They stood arm in arm. Man and wife.

  ‘I’m taking Peta home,’ he said gently, his eyes on Charles’s face. ‘In all honour.’

  ‘You’ve never… You’ll never…’

  ‘I am. Get used to it.’ He looked across at Darrell. ‘Darrell, if there aren’t security guards to deal with this…’-he said the word this as if it referred to some lower form of pond scum-‘then could you help me evict him?’

  ‘With pleasure,’ Darrell told him.

  ‘I’ll help,’ Ruby added.

  ‘Hey, me, too,’ Peta put in. ‘He’s my cousin. I should get to slug him.’

  ‘Brides don’t slug,’ Marcus told her and she managed a smile. Albeit a shaky one.

  ‘Not?’

  ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘Rats.’

  ‘You have something else to do,’ Ruby reminded her. ‘Something important.’ Marcus’s assistant glanced at Charles as if he was of no significance at all. ‘If you’ve quite finished?’

  ‘I haven’t.’ Charles backed to the door as Darrell took a measured step towards him. ‘You’ll hear from my lawyers.’

  ‘I hope they have better party manners than you do,’ Marcus told him. Then he deliberately turned away from the man and faced Ruby. ‘What has my bride forgotten to do?’

  My bride… It sounded strange. It was a declaration of intention-a declaration that, come what may, Charles’s lawyers couldn’t hurt her.

  It was a gesture of pure protection and, as he made it, Marcus thought, whoa, where am I going? But he couldn’t unsay it. He couldn’t unfeel it.

  He looked down into her face and, as Darrell slammed the door behind her obnoxious cousin, he could see that she was as confused as he was. He was offering protection, but to Peta protection seemed an unknown sensation. She’d fought her own battles, he thought, and somehow, he knew her battles had been just as hard as his own.

  The knowledge intensified the sensation. It made him feel even more at sea. More…helpless?

  This was an illusion, he told himself. The way he felt about her. The way he held her, pulling her in to his body. It was a façade put on to convince Charles that here was a real marriage.